


Unsteady

by wednesdays__child



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Established Relationship, Fights, Gen, Self-Harm, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:45:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: Jack hated it when his parents fought. He tried to hide but the words always found him.





	Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
> 
> That's all I got.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Descriptions of cutting and self-harm. Please don't read if it will bother you.
> 
> Betaed by Dazeventura6.
> 
> Title and quote from the song Unsteady by X Ambassadors.

  
_Dad, I know you’re trying_  
 _To fight when you feel like flying_

_Hold_   
_Hold on_   
_Hold on to me_   
_'Cause I’m a little unsteady_   
_A little unsteady_

He sat in the bathroom, naked, with his head in his hands as he listened to the fighting in the other room. His parents didn’t fight often but when they did, it was awful – his father shouting horrible things, his papa shooting back words so much quieter but with a sharper sting. He’d known them to fight before, usually over women, oddly enough. He remembered the fight about Emily but that was before they were married and he’d been just a little boy then. Maeve was thrown around a time or two, as was Beth. Jack didn’t understand it all. He knew they loved each other but when they fought it brought up every single bit of anxiety, every fear he’d ever felt and amplified it until he couldn’t take it anymore and he’d retreat to his only haven, the only room with a lock on it that wasn’t his parent’s bedroom.

It quieted down for a minute and Jack thought maybe, just maybe they were done, that they had resolved their issue and he could go back to bed.

He was wrong.

“I can’t believe you are going back there,” Spencer hissed, his voice loud despite his efforts to keep his voice down.

“It’s who I am, Spencer. You knew this before we got married. How long have you known me now? Fourteen years? Jesus Christ, for a genius you can be pretty fucking dense.”

“I guess I understand now how Haley felt.”

That was a low blow. Even Jack knew that. Bringing up the past was always tricky with his parents but his mom? That was the worst.

“Don’t you dare, Spencer.” His dad’s voice was a near growl. Jack wished he could go out there, talk some reason into them, somehow make them stop but he knew better than that. The last time he tried that they both shut down, closed off from each other and him, and it had taken them three times as long to make up as if he’d just let them go at it. He’d let them sort it out themselves, scream at each other until they came to an understanding, neither of them knowing how much it was killing him inside.

“They arrested you, Aaron! It was so obvious that it wasn’t you. They were targeting you. Are you really going to go through this again, put us all through this all over again? Peter Lewis is out there...again. Is this going to be just like Foyet?”

“This is nothing like Foyet!”

Just the mention of the man’s name turned Jack’s stomach. He didn’t remember much from that day, most of it beyond his understanding as a little boy. He remembered his mom squeezing him so tight it hurt. He remembered his dad finding him in the office window seat, his face beaten and bloody. And he remembered George Foyet’s face. Even as a boy, he knew he was a bad man. Some nights those eyes, that voice haunted his dreams, and fights like this only made it seem like he was still there, hiding, waiting, that his dad hadn’t beaten the life out of the man with his bare hands.

Jack moved his hands from his face to his ears, trying to block out the rest of the words. He couldn’t take it, not here, not now, but they still came, still rang in his ears. He couldn’t run away from it but he knew there was one thing he could do to silence the roar around him. He reached down into the front pocket of his jeans dropped into a pile on the bathroom floor. He pulled out the pocket knife his dad had given him for Christmas. It was a good one; a multi-knife that so far he’d only used for one purpose.

He opened the longest blade, staring at its glinting, sharp edge. Part of him knew this was wrong, that he should just put it away, but the shouting just outside didn’t stop and neither could he.

 _Just one,_ he thought to himself. _Just one and I’ll stop._

Placing the blade close to the top of his right thigh, he pressed the blade in. He learned to make the cuts up high where no one could see, where no one would ask what had happened. Jack wasn’t a good liar so getting caught was out of the question. When he cut up high enough, no one would see, not even his parents. He could hide it under his shorts and boxer briefs. As long as he was careful, no one would know.

He pressed down harder, hissing at the feeling of his own skin giving way under the blade before swiping away, the cut sharp and shallow. That was it. It was easy. It stung and bled slowly and Jack sighed at the relief of it. He heard the rush of the blood in his ears and knew that this was better - better than hearing, better than feeling.

One cut became two which turned to three, each one longer and deeper than the last. One last cut, lower than he intended, pooled blood up faster than he wanted. He moved to the side and watched, fascinated as the drops fell from his skin into the bowl below, sinking and expanding in the water. He sat mesmerized while the water turned from clear to pink to red.

He was startled out of his trance when he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Jack?” His dad called quietly.

He cleared his throat, surprised at how dry it was. “Yeah, Dad?”

“You okay in there?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment, scared to ask the next question. “Is Spencer still here?”

“Yeah, Buddy. I’m still here,” Spencer called out.

The knob was turned but didn’t open and Jack was so glad that he remembered to throw the lock. He sighed as he reached over for some tissue to press against the wounds, hoping to stem the bleeding. While the door did have a lock, it was very easy to open and Jack knew that his Papa could open nearly any lock there was.

“Jack, Buddy. I’m not going anywhere, alright? It was just a fight.”

He nodded despite the fact that they couldn’t see him. He had no words to say.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A snort of laughter followed unbidden. Of course, living with two profilers - or soon to be one profiler and one professor with degree in psychology - they would want to talk about this. Jack hated that part. But with all the therapy he’d been dragged to, Jack had learned how to talk about his feelings without talking about his feelings.

“Sure,” he replied after much too long. “Let me just take a shower, okay?”

He heard his parents quietly discussing something outside the door before his dad asked, “Isn’t it a little early for a shower for you?”

He groaned out loud then. “Stop profiling me, Dad. It’s just a stupid shower.”

Jack stood quickly, suddenly angry and unable to control it. He threw the stained paper into the toilet before flushing away any evidence of what he had done. He was surprised at the rush of dizziness and nausea he felt but he stumbled into the shower regardless, not even waiting for the water to warm before stepping under it’s spray. He looked down at his leg, surprised to see it was still bleeding. He’d never bled this long and hard before and he felt a twinge of panic. He washed quickly before pressing a towel to his leg. When he tried to stumble out of the shower, feeling a little unsteady, he tripped and fell. His parents must have remained outside in the hall because he heard them cry out.

“Papa?” He called when the door flew open and he saw Spencer standing with his lockpick kit, staring at him, a look of horror on his face.

“Jack?!” His dad shouted from behind Spencer before he darted forward. As he picked him up to carry him out of the tiny room, Jack sighed and everything went black.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry.


End file.
